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He was out walking the dogs when she found him. Fidget pranced alongside, excited by everything and everyone, while Cas' dog Cafall slunk along behind him, watching the world through careful and guarded eyes. It wasn't until recently that the shepherd would willingly follow Rylan anywhere. Even now, Cafall only rarely listened to anyone but Cas, but at least he had deemed them worthy of his company and that was good enough reason for Rylan to bring him along on Fidget's morning walks.

Tibbie's voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it until he turned and saw her across the street. It occurred to Rylan then that it had caught him off-guard to hear the quiet young woman lift her voice that way. But she seemed infinitely less sad that she had during their first meeting, and that was enough to make him smile and wave to her across the way.

"Hi Tibbie," he greeted her when she came close. "Sure, I'm just walking these two. I'm not in a hurry."

Fidget promptly stuck his nose up to her hand, sniffing her with infinite curiosity, while Cafall stood just behind Rylan and studied their new company from afar.

Rylan paused to consider Tibbie for a moment, thinking she must be right around Corra's age but different from both his sisters in so many ways. His was not a particularly shy family. Casey, now a senior at OSU, had more fire and spunk that anyone would've thought possible for her tiny stature. Corra, in her sophomore year at Rider-Waite, was possessed of a cool confidence that manifested itself in the way she expected the world to simply concede to her decisions.

"You don't need to ask," he said finally with a grin. "We're glad you offered to join us. Of course you're welcome."

He laid a hand on Fidget's head to quiet the lanky dog, and said, "The dalmatian is Fidget. He's our firehouse dog, actually, but lives with me about half the time. The shepherd is my roommate's dog, Cafall." It was probably obvious in the way Cafall had chosen to hang back that he was much more aloof a creature than either Fidget or Rylan.

"So what is it?" he added as they started to walk again.

"You bet he is," Rylan said proudly as the dalmatian jogged along beside them. "He's been doing demonstrations in schools for the last few months, teaching kids to stop, drop, and roll." And he'd been a comforting presence at several calls that they'd brought him to, letting shocked children latch onto him and helping put the elderly at ease with his unstoppably happy demeanor.

"Most firehouses don't," he added. "We have him just by coincidence. He wound up in the shelter, and we decided to buy into the cliche. But everyone's glad we did."

Fidget was great for morale and even better for companionship on a slow day. The chief had been skeptical at first, but it hadn't taken the dalmatian long to prove that he was more useful at the fire station than away from it.

"I am a firefighter, and we do have those," he replied with a laugh. "Although not all our engines are equipped with them. The budget hasn't gone through for too many of those just yet, but they've come in handy a few times."

They wound their way along the road and off onto a trail leading into the state park. There was a spot farther up the path where he liked to let Fidget run and stretch his legs, but with Cafall along, that didn't seem like the best idea. But the trail winding along the river provided one of the best views in Ashdown.

"You want to try it huh?" he said with a slow nod. "Well, I'm happy to help you try. It might not be easy though. I'll be honest, the first time I warged into Imp, it was completely by accident. But we'll give it a shot. I should warn you though, before we do, it can give you some awful migraines. I mean, really. Not fun."

"I hope so too," he agreed with a nod. "Public funding though, always more of a nightmare than you want it to be." It made no sense, the lack of funding for a department that existed out of necessity and was, by definition, meant to save lives. He would've thought that a service like that was priceless.

But not, apparently, to the government. The bureaucracy involved in running the fire station had been a major factor into his relief when the department had informed him that it felt obligated first to promote a different Lieutenant. Rylan liked his position just fine - high enough to run his own crew, low enough to avoid the red tape. It was better that way.

"I don't think it hurts them," he said, picking up the conversation again. "Otherwise they wouldn't be happy to do it, but Imp always seems happy to see me, excited even. He likes to fly. It's tough, though. I think you could do it, especially if you set your mind to it, but it's not easy. It might take quite a few tries before you're successful."

"Sort of," Rylan agreed thoughtfully. "Seems like the imagination's the limit over there. It's a lot easier to warg in Other Ashdown. You don't get migraines or anything. You can even warg over the divide into real Ashdown and keep an eye on things here."

Quite useful, really, especially now that he didn't really need Imp in the real world. There'd been a day, a couple weeks back, right after the faerie ball, when he'd woken up and realized his vision had changed. Even through his own eyes, he could see as Imp did - the same vivid colors, the ultraviolet, the distance, the brightness.

Still, it wasn't the same as flying.

"Alright, so warging. This might not really make sense at first, but I think it's mostly trial and error until you get it right. But basically, when I warg, I reach out my consciousness for Imp. Kind of like extending your brainwaves out, looking for him specifically."

"Uh. At first? Panic, quite frankly," he said with a wry smile. "Losing the concentration required to connect with your familiar. Once you get better control of it, it becomes more of a conscious return to your own. It'll be a little haphazard at first." Or, more precisely, entirely haphazard. But that was true of all new endeavors.

He glanced over and took a quick look at Nibbs, saw the quiet way the cat sat in the bag, not fighting, looking entirely docile. Probably a good companion and familiar for Tibbie.

"Try it at home," he agreed. "Give me a call if you need any help." He reached into his back pocket and fished out his wallet, plucked a business card out, and handed it to her. "Sometimes it helps when you have someone watching. Especially if you're worried."

"Of course!" Rylan nodded and grinned, glad that Tibbie seemed so enthusiastic about it. "Call me any time. I'd like to know how it goes. God knows it's reassuring to have someone to reach out to for help."

That was the way of things for Rylan. Any situation in which he could offer his help, he was happy to do it. Some might call it occupational hazard, but he preferred to think that he'd chosen his occupation because of who he was naturally.

And when it came to magic, he knew, help was always welcome.

There was a quiet whine from the end of the leash, and Rylan looked down to see Fidget staring fixedly down the trail. He laughed, and glanced back at Tibbie. "This guy wants to go," he said apologetically. "I'd better take him. But keep me posted, and uh. Don't do anything rash."

Not that he expected her to do anything of the sort.